


Too Good to be True

by GoodJanet



Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: Daddy Kink, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Living Together, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 08:44:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4472804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodJanet/pseuds/GoodJanet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam just wants to feel safe and secure once he leaps home. Al will do whatever it takes to ensure that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Good to be True

Ever since they were finally able to find Sam as he floated freely through time, Al had insisted that Sam live with him. It made it easier to track mental and physical changes, but it was reassuring just to have him close by. Close enough to touch without his hand slipping through.

That was the first change Al noticed. Before leaping, Sam would hug him or pat him on the back, but since his return, Sam has been downright affectionate. And Al was more and more comfortable with reciprocating.

Al will be making scrambled eggs at the stove, and Sam will press up against him, arms reaching around with a fork to steal a bite and a hug. Or the time Al was putting on a new tie, and Sam took it from his hand and knotted it himself. And Al’s lost count of the number of times they’ll watch a show or movie starting at opposite ends of the couch, only to have Sam nearly in his lap by the end credits. But by the time the credits are rolling, it’s not the TV they’re paying attention to.

So while their romantic relationship was slowly growing, it was obvious that the kid wanted something _more_. But Al wasn’t entirely sure how to bring it up or if he should wait for Sam to bring it up first. And he certainly hoped he wasn’t reading into things either.

Al waits for movie night to come around again—Sam’s pretty far behind on pop culture—to try to broach the subject. It’s when Sam’s curled up against him, hand grasping the fabric of his shirtfront, that he decides to say something.

“Hey, Sam?”

“Hmmm?”

His eyes dart up to Al before returning to the TV.

Al hits pause. It’s probably best to have his full attention for this topic. Sam sits up.

“What’s wrong, Al?”

“Well, that’s what I was going to ask you, actually.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Sam, really.”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m here as myself, I’m slowly getting the hang of a new millennium, plus I’m gonna go back to work soon. What’s on your mind?”

Al sighs and rubs the back of his head. There wasn’t a good way to ask a friend—a really good friend—this question. There really wasn’t. And it’s very hard to look at his doe eyes and parted lips and think anything resembling a kind, pure thought.

“I’m worried you’re not getting enough attention.”

“Attention from who?”

“Well, ah, from me.”

“Al, we’re together almost all day. We live in the same house, for crying out loud.”

“I’m just worried that you have other needs that aren’t being met.”

“Just say what you mean already.”

“You’re always holding on to me for dear life or touching me or standing really close, and I’m worried that now that you’re tangible that you might want something more from me. And that’s not a complaint; just stating the facts. I know we’ve tried things in the past, but I don’t actually know if you’re happy, and it all just feels mixed up. There. Are you happy now? I didn’t want to embarrass you, but—”

Al’s scolding is cut short with Sam’s mouth over his. His mouth is loose and out of practice, but his tongue and overall presence is really nice, so Al can’t complain. He runs gentle fingers through Sam’s hair. It’s so soft and refreshingly touchable. When he gets a little breathless, he gently presses Sam’s shoulders away, but Sam resists his resistance, which would normally be hot if he could get a breath in edgewise. Al moves his head to the side, and Sam whimpers.

“I need _you_ , Al. Not anyone else or anything more.”

And god if that didn’t go straight to his dick.

“You can have me. God, can you have me. But if something’s bothering you, you gotta tell me. Okay?”

Sam rests his forehead against Al’s and nods.

“I want you, Al.”

Jesus, the kid was gonna kill him. 

Sam moves to sit over Al’s lap, and soon his thighs bracket his. Al hands brush against his thighs, and he feels the how tightly the jeans are stretched over his muscles. Sam’s hands stroke from Al’s neck to his shoulders soothingly, and Al shudders. After so many long years of not being able to touch, Sam had become quite the sensualist. They’ve been intimate before, but this time is different. It feels a lot less clinical, and a lot more familiar.

He hoped he was doing the right thing here, taking care of Sam. Al couldn’t imagine anyone else taking care of him. Trouble had a nasty habit of finding Sam, and Al wasn’t going to let anyone or anything else hurt his friend.

Al pulls his head down to kiss him again. Those lips were something else.

“Al? I want to ask you something.”

“What is it, kid?”

“Well…”

Al pulls away just enough to see a blush blooming on his face, slowly spreading to his ears. He looks good enough to eat.

“Well?”

“I want you to be my daddy,” he finally says in a rush of words.

Sam immediately ducks his head, half wishing he had just kept his mouth shut.

“You, Sam? You’re asking me to-to…for you?”

Sure he’s played the daddy game with a few of his “little girls” before, but hearing the request from saintly Sam was something straight out of left field.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. Can we just go back to the part where we were kissing?”

“Sam, you can’t just drop a bombshell like that on me and expect me to ignore it! I mean, I’m shocked, but it’s nice to know your sexual fantasies run just as wild as mine.”

“They do not!”

“Sam, you’re asking me to be your daddy, which is all fine and good, but it’s pretty wild to want someone to be your ‘daddy.’”

“I just like the idea of you protecting me and teaching me and wanting me, okay? There. Are you happy now?” Sam parrots.

“Sam, it’s fine. I mean, if this is what you need to feel safe, I’m not gonna say ‘no’ to you. Especially not to something like this!”

“Really? You’re not gonna tease me about it?”

“Well, I didn’t say _that_. But nothing too bad. I promise. You’re my boy, and that’s what fathers do.”

Sam swallows at that.

“I just want you to be proud of me.”

“Oh, Sammy, I am. You’re too good to be true, you know that?”

“I wanna be good for you.”

“I think you’re wearing far too many clothes to anything _but_ good.”

“I can fix that.”

Sam stands and pulls his shirt off over his head, letting it fall to the floor. Sam reaches for his belt buckle and carefully threads the leather back through the loops. He peeks at Al when he reaches for his fly and sees that even though Al was being strangely quiet, he was obviously enjoying the proceedings, if the bulge in his slacks was anything to go by. Sam’s jeans join the pile, but he hesitates when he’s standing there in his boxers.

“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, Al. I feel kind of stupid.”

“What are you talking about? You’re gorgeous. Are you kidding me?”

“Oh, come on, Al.”

“Sam, have you looked in the mirror recently?”

Sam stomach sinks like a stone, and he’d swear time froze for a brief moment. He knows Al didn’t mean anything by the common phrase, but the implication stung. Sam’s face falls as he bends over to pick up his discarded clothes.

“Sam, wait!”

Al jumps up and follows Sam down the hall to the stairs.

“Sam, you know I didn’t mean anything by that. It’s just an expression.”

Sam stops halfway up the steps.

“It’s not just an expression to me. That was ten years of my life! I know you didn’t mean anything by it, but it bothers me, okay? All these little things, things people say without realizing it, it adds up.”

“Sam, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, kid.”

“I’m tired of not feeling safe, Al. It feels like in the next second I’m going to leap away again. Or I’ll wake up in someone else’s house, and all this will have been a dream.”

Al walks up the stairs towards Sam, and Sam waits for Al to reach him. They sit down on the step. Al puts his arm around Sam’s shoulder like he’s done hundreds of times over the course of all their alternate lifetimes.

“I’m not going anywhere, Sammy. Honest to God…or Time or Fate.”

“I know,” Sam says. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well, I guess Gooshie could be your ‘daddy,’” Al jokes.

“Har har har. Very funny.”

“It’s my job to add a little levity, isn’t it?”

“Of course, Al.”

Sam smiles, and Al knows everything’s going to be alright. Maybe not right now, but someday.


End file.
